The 10 Best Places I Traveled in 2023 (Part II)
This time featuring destinations on the other side of the Atlantic, my year in review continues with the final five of the 10 best places I traveled in 2023.
From July through November of this year, a wild and unplanned European adventure came together across five countries and 20+ cities. From Norway to Scotland, then England, Germany, and Italy, these are the five cities within that bunch that stood out and still feel like bookmarked pages for me to return to later.
If you missed part 1 of this series, click here and catch yourself up on the first five destinations.
Bergen, Norway
In mid-July, I traded Latin America for Europe with Norway as my first stop. I was there to walk one of the St. Olav Ways, a 400-mile pilgrimage route that extends from Oslo in the south to Trondheim in the north. No, I didn’t tackle the whole thing, but I did join a friend from my Camino days for the final 150-mile walk into Trondheim. It was a highlight of my entire four-month European adventure. Maybe I’ll tell you about it in a future post. Right now, let me tell you about Bergen and why it made my Top 10 Destinations of 2023.
This harbor city, christened the “Gateway to the Fjords,” was the only other spot (besides the trailside towns) that I visited in Norway, and it immediately had my full attention. Due to it being summer when I visited and peak tourist season, I had a bit of a lodging puzzle to work out, which led me to have to bounce around to various hostels and hotels in town over the course of my five-day stay. It was an inconvenience that actually helped me to take in the city from various vantage points in a rather short span of time.
One night I was living luxe in the heart of central Bergen at a five-star hotel, complete with underground sauna and spa, and the next I’m perched on a mountaintop at a youth hostel forced to use my own sleeping bag liner for bed sheets. But the more I was forced to relocate, the more I got to know Bergen in all its juicy splendor. I came to know its Hanseatic history, its reindeer sausages, black metal craft beer bars, and breadth of bakery cafes. I panted my way up to its highest peak, wandered its hilly parks, chaotic markets, and fascinatingly narrow and colorful streets, and sometimes poked my head inside its most creative and unusual shops and galleries, often falling into conversation with the shopowners in the process.
The spirit of Bergen is friendly, warm, inviting, cozy. It’s the sort of place you can endlessly wander and find something new to experience or indulge in (like the brown cheese white hot chocolate at Fjak). Its combination of nature, history, culture, gastronomy, and architecture puts this spot on my list of viable home bases - not an easy feat for this wandering spirit.
Edinburgh, Scotland
After Norway, I hopped across the Black Sea to Scotland. After a long overdue reunion with extended family in Aberdeen, I went on a circular route around Scotland, from the Highlands to Edinburgh and Glasgow. Edinburgh left an impression on me that is entirely unique to this city. I had arrived just as the annual Fringe Festival was ending, meaning the city was swollen with tourists and street performers. So, while its epic architecture had my jaw on the floor, the city was as alive as it ever gets.
Because I wasn’t in town for the Fringe Festival, it was a bit of a nuisance to experience Edinburgh for what I was there for. It was hard to get its pulse, its identity. But not impossible either. I had an entire week devoted to exploring Edinburgh and that I did. Each day I set out with the intention of coming to know a little bit more of this historic city. I went on walking tours that took me inside haunted cemeteries and down quiet closes, I frequented museums dedicated to literary legends, and wandered inside shops dedicated to witchcraft, both the fictional and “white witch” kind. I scoped out the pubbiest pub for a pint and a taste of haggis, neeps, and tatties and got caught in a downpour on Arthur’s Seat.
When all was said and done, Edinburgh became easily the most impressive city I have ever experienced. It’s awe-inspiring in every way. You feel as though you’re walking through scenes from another world, or at the very least from another time. It inspired me as a writer, as a creative, and as an explorer. It’s a spot I now reserve in my mind as a place on this planet to go for inspiration, because that I am sure to find in Edinburgh.
Dunbar, Scotland
Dunbar was the final destination on my Scotland tour, a bit haphazardly selected, too, based on the promise of maybe the possibility of surfing the Black Sea. Unlike every other spot I visited in Scotland, Dunbar was a place I never knew existed. I’d never heard of it before. But as soon as I hopped off the train from Edinburgh, this was a spot that sent electricity through my veins at first step, first sight, first smell, first sound.
I stayed at a little inn on the edge of Dunbar’s main street. From there, I could explore on foot the ancient fortress and harbor, the craggy coastline, and cave-ridden beaches. The town itself is a hodge podge of salty fishermen’s homes stained by the sea. The seagulls squawk incessantly and the smell of the ocean fills every breath. I was fortunate to have a local named Tom, the manager at the inn I was staying at, show me around his hometown. It offered a glimpse at the layers of Dunbar that I probably would have missed otherwise - the artistic bent of so many locals, the nature that plays part in city goings on, the community commitment to preserving main street with independent businesses and keeping box stores like Rewe on the outer environs.
I did manage to squeeze into a wetsuit once while there and had an enlightening surf lesson with Coast to Coast Surf School in the icy North Sea swell, but though that was the reason I was there, it played second fiddle to what Dunbar became for me. I enjoyed my morning jogs along the coastline and past the golf courses, clifftops, and sandy beaches. I adored cycling out to the lighthouse and past the Dunbear, catching sunset on the rocks, and playing pool at the local Legion Club. The connection to my home country by way of John Muir, one of Dunbar’s most famous former residents, also played a part in my love affair with this unsuspecting spot.
Munich, Germany
From the UK, I flew to Germany next and ultimately visited eight cities throughout the country, but it was my fleeting few days in Munich that stood out from the rest. I was surprised how easily I found myself acclimating to Munich’s pace, not to mention its fairytale architecture, dreamy green spaces, bustling beer halls, and outdoor markets. It was my first taste of Bavaria and I was loving everything about it.
A friend of mine from Peru was there to be my guide. Literally. My 7-hour train from Hamburg had arrived just in time to attend his 3pm walking tour through the center of Munich. It gave me a nice primer on the Nazi-era history that’s unfolded on its streets, all while I drank in the impressive Rathaus-Glockenspiel, timber-framed facades, and beer halls as we went.
That very night, my friend also guided me to my first Oktoberfest experience, something I never knew I’d be checking off my bucket list this year. But there I was, immersed in the madness, liter beer in hand and foot stomping on the table alongside a hall full of lederhosen-clad and boisterous festival goers.
Perhaps it was this strong start and good timing that made Munich so memorable in my mind. But Oktoberfest or not, I was simply loving Munich for Munich. Like Bergen, I could see myself calling this city home for a time. It had all sorts of ingredients I look for in a city, including a few things I’d never even know to ask for, like surfing the Eisbach River?!
Florence, Italy
I love that Florence made its way to this list, because this is the only spot I traveled this year that was decided for me. It was decided by my mom and sister who I had finally convinced to meet me over in Europe. My instructions to them were: I don’t care where. I don’t care when. Just come. And they did for a fabulous week in early November, just shy of my fast approaching flight back to the U.S. in mid-November.
In total bliss and ignorance, the three of us managed to get ourselves to Florence without delay and in the midst of some of the region’s most extreme weather to date, including deadly flooding just north of the city one day prior. Their gorgeous five-star hotel became our home base as we explored the city. I’d walk over from my bed and breakfast across the Arno River each morning to join them for breakfast and then we’d just let the day take us. We sat for meals that we’ll never forget, ventured off into the wine country for a day of chianti tasting, and miraculously timed our museum and gallery visits for when everything was free. It was some good ol’ fashioned family bonding in a city that is so beautiful it leaves you speechless.
I stayed in the city an additional week after they left, giving me more time to see what we’d missed and repeat meals at some of my favorite spots. I even managed to squeeze in one run up into the vineyard and villa-coated hillsides on one of the rare mornings it wasn’t all-out raining and roamed the Boboli Gardens one evening just before sunset. By Florence, I was already feeling the finish line of this epic year of travel. Feeling it in the desire for slower days, solitude, and simple pleasures over action-packed days and city hopping. The “trip,” if I can even call one year of wandering that, was over and Florence was the perfect spot to tie it with a bow.
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